The Picture
by InCarcosa
Summary: Post war, barely cannon. Severus' spy reflexes can't pin down the oddities Minerva senses. His life becomes complicated and a new student suffers silently.
1. Chapter 1

It was cool and breezy over the summer holiday after Harry Potter and his dream team finally graduated properly. The stress of having the boy around had started to leak out of Professor Snape's body as June wore on. By September, he figured, it would all be behind him and he could resign himself to teach out the rest of his days, gawked at by stupid children and being generally disliked by all. That thought made him calmer than anything else had ever made him in all his years.

As Severus lingered in the delightfully cool air in the drafty corridor leading to the staff dining room, he began to think up excuses to leave the meeting early. The Wolfsbane that he was brewing for Lupin's orphan child needed special attention this evening? No, that would not work. Professor Slughorn would know that tonight promised a waxing moon and that the ingredients could not be exposed to the moonlight until after tomorrow night. Curse him for attending the one superfluous meeting _just in case_ the new staff happened to be worth _collecting._ He entered the room as quietly as possible and ghosted over to a corner, actively avoiding anyone's attempted eye contact. Suddenly, though, it was too quiet. Then, predictably, Minerva made herself known.

"Hello, Severus."

"Headmistress."

She gave a show of incredulity and reiterated, for the third time, "Severus I would rather you not call me that. In any case, how has your holiday been? We haven't seen you much, those of us who stay."

"I have been…engaged in study." She looked at him pointedly. "With the Wolfsbane. For the child."

By this point Minerva looked slightly amused but did not laugh outright. Instead, she simply said, "Well, good, dear. As soon as Professor Slughorn puts his roots down you'll be free as a lark to socialize and let him tend to those duties."

Severus scowled and sipped at the drink offered to him by a passing house elf.

"Minerva. Consider my position."

He had said this low, in what he hoped was his most diplomatic voice. She seemed to shrink a little as he looked away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her arms uncross.

"Yes, Severus, I know," she started, clearly choosing her words carefully, on the defensive, now. "There are those who will always be ignorant in their treatment of you, but none of them are employed at this school." He wanted desperately to remind her of how quickly she had believed him an evil prick after Dumbledore's demise. "Severus, I implore you. Please do not pull away again. You sink out from the walls for months, and we miss, you, Severus. We _miss_ you."

Severus said nothing but wished to scream at her. He would yell and gesture and smash things and break his knuckles on a wall if he thought it would make her understand how isolated he felt in a group—especially this one. He could hardly breathe, sometimes, and would claw at his knee under the table to keep himself calm, an action he never would have chanced during the war, in case either of his masters became aware of his tension.

Times that he did not show for gatherings were not periods during which he was overly angry at anyone. They were the nights he couldn't breathe just thinking about what someone might say to him about Albus or the war. Mornings in which he'd wake up clawing at his throat. Afternoons he couldn't stand to hear about Potter, or Lily, or his life as analyzed by the newest visitor to the castle. Bureaucrats, politicians, aurors, tours. The summer had always seen an unbearable flood of visitors. Now, however, his infamy followed him everywhere and more times than not he wished the blessed snake had done a better job of things. Leave it to Dumbledore's conniving ways and ingenious mind to confuse Severus' fear of failure with his fear of death and to come up with a solution. Even today, Dumbledore's notes about the Sorcerer's Stone, the modified Elixer of Life, and a house elf's oath of silence sat locked in Severus' desk drawer, unreadable to anyone else.

"I will try, Minerva."

In the end, she walked away smiling, and the others glanced his way, timidly smiling. Severus raised his glass in response to Slughorn raising his. Then, finally, as everyone became seated, the quiet came back to his life.

He looked around the table and saw three faces he did not recognize well, if at all: A blond, attractive woman, a goblin, and a distinguished looking man in his forties or early fifties. Severus placed his napkin into his lap just as the first course was about to be announced. As he took his first bite, Severus picked out a fourth face: the face of a teenage girl who was attempting to hide behind the new wizard. He had not seen her before, but understood immediately that she was the man's daughter. The resemblance was striking. She looked up at Severus and quickly looked away. She had seen him analyzing and he felt as though he'd slipped up. He reminded himself that it did not matter that she knew he'd been watching. Such habits and concerns would take the rest of his life to break.

The girl was dressed in classy, simple robes, and her face was round above them. The young witch was overweight with brown hair and warm colored skin. Her father, as he assumed this man to be, likewise, had dark features and warm skin. His black hair was pulled into a ponytail and bore a green silk ribbon. The style resembled Lucius' so closely that Snape sneered visibly. The girl chewed her fingernail nervously until her father eyed her down.

Minerva announced the first course and everyone began eating as she spoke casually in between bites.

"Most of you have met Ms. Clayborne. She'll be our newest Magical Arts teacher. Well, that is, our only Magical Arts teacher thus far. Ms. Clayborne? Do tell those who have not met you a little about yourself."

The pretty blond woman began to speak, daintily. Her hands were shaking a bit, and she flushed. Snape noted with appreciation that she was curvy, and her hair swept over one shoulder gracefully. Her glasses made her already bright eyes sparkle.

"Melissa, please. And…well…I'm from Australia originally. I got my Hogwarts letter right as I began to accidentally make two meter statues out of dirt, and never knew before then that magic existed and….well isn't that odd? Anyhow, I look forward to working with you."

The blond giggled a bit and looked down at her plate. She was, maybe, 24. Severus would have rolled his eyes at the young woman's rate of speech if not for Minerva's ever-watchful Mr. Manners Timepiece. It buzzed anytime someone was rude in her vicinity. The table went momentarily quiet. Then, the new, distinguished wizard cleared his throat.

"Melissa, is it? That's a muggle name, yes?"

The silence shifted. Severus regarded the dark man closely. He was used to being the rude party at a table, and felt almost left out as this man overstepped a line that had been very clearly forming in the aftermath of the war.

"Yes, it is. Like I said. Never knew about magic before my letter," the witch replied. Her voice was a bit higher than it had been before. Severus couldn't believe that timepiece wasn't going off like mad. He chanced a glance at Minerva. Sure enough, she reached her wand down to her side and whispered the spell to turn the timepiece off.

"Hm. And so where did you learn magical art? As the Headmistress did state, there has never been a class offered here."

Professor Clayborne cleared her throat.

"Australia," she said, "I took art classes during the summer holidays from a wizard in Perth. Studied a year's worth of class material during each summer holiday for 4 years." She was stuffy, now, angry, and half the rest of the table was, too. Severus sipped his pint quietly.

"Yes, I see. And your parents?"

"What about them?"

"What do they do?"

"Nothing. My mother is deceased and my father lives in a nursing home. Dementia."

The wizard smiled.

"Forgive me. I'm sorry to hear. Isn't there something magical that can be done?" The room was so tense, now, that people were starting to try to start side conversations. Professor Clayborne spoke over the noise.

"I'm really not sure. My family has lived its life as it knows how to." She turned to the goblin, then. "Professor Milnt, I hear your class will be called 'Wizard Economics?'"

The goblin took his queue and started speaking lovingly about his economics class and all he hoped to show young witches and wizards about the history and benefits of the goblin banking system within the context of the global wizarding economy. The room then became quiet again, and Severus, surprising himself, spoke up.

"That leaves, what is it, Arithmancy?"

Everyone looked at him, but he shifted his attention to the distinguished wizard who was so clearly a purist. The other wizard finished cutting off a portion of pot roast before setting his utensils down too politely, and turned to face Severus. He sensed challenge, Severus could tell. Severus knew that look a mile away.

"I am Professor Blanche. I will teach Arithmancy. I have taught at only a handful of smaller schools, mostly in Eastern Europe. They do things quite differently. However, I have successfully run my own Arithmancy firm for nearly ten years, one of the last of fourteen worldwide. I also have two advanced degrees in Ancient Runes."

There was another small silence. Then, getting a wicked feeling, Severus mimicked Professor Blanche's demeanor. "Blanche. That's…French…yes?" There were a few muffled laughs disguised as coughs and a couple of wide open mouths. Severus paid attention to magically scraping the head off of his second pint and then looked up at Blanche.

"Yes, as a matter of fact it is. My father was French, unfortunately and also a half-blood. You may call me Romulus, though." His ambiguous placement of the word "unfortunately" made Minerva frown deeper.

Severus narrowed his eyes a bit. This man was serious. He wanted everyone to know. He wasn't going to politely drop his disdain for muggleborns or half bloods. Severus nodded once, then, and went back to eating. Secondarily, he thought about how tacky it was to name one's children after gods, and how French and Latin together sounded even more offensive.

"And…and _do_ tell us about your lovely daughter!" Madame Trelawney nervously fiddled with her vest and grinned while looking at Blanche. At this point, Romulus straightened a bit. He looked down at his plate and then his daughter. She looked straight ahead, suddenly blushing furiously. Romulus leaned forward to look at Trelawney.

"We've relocated from Germany. She will be living in my quarters. Her name is Argo."

' _And now to the Greek, as well'_ thought Snape. Such _reverence_ Severus held for the purists. This man had ties to the Black Family, Severus was sure.

"Well? Darling? Do tell us more about yourself! How old are you, what year, and what would you like us to know about your spirit?"

Everyone seemed to ignore Trelawny's odd question, but paid the girl rapt attention. Her father seemed to scowl a bit but Severus couldn't quite see his face all the way. Argo grew even redder and spoke quietly. Her voice was deep for a girl's, and soft.

"I am 16 and will be 17 soon. I am in what you would call the 'seventh year,' here, but I have had over eleven years of magical schooling. There's not much else to say."

It seemed as though regular conversation might flow again, until someone asked, too loudly, "Isn't she going to eat anything?" Severus looked at the girl, as everyone had, and noticed for the first time that she had no food in front of her. Romulus spoke up, leaning forward a bit.

"Argo has a bit of a dietary problem. She's on a very special diet. Therefore, she may go to the Great Hall at meal times, as I understand the castle requires it at least once daily, but she may not eat there. She will become ill if she does. It's more of a… _disorder_ … you see."

Argo tilted her head away, then, and Severus knew how embarrassed she must feel. Yes, she was a bit overweight, but really, it wasn't unhealthy looking, altogether. Though, Severus wondered if she was still relatively healthy because of the diet.

"We shall have to see whether we can talk Hogwarts into releasing the requirement just this once." Minerva was smiling but Severus knew by the way her jaw tightened that she was angry beneath.

The rest of the meal dragged on and Minerva excitedly gave a short dismissal speech.

"And now we come to a close, friends. We'll be starting another year very soon. I regret that I cannot be here to finish out the summer holiday with you all. Please go forward to rebuild, as we have been trying to do. Please treat your students with respect. Please make sure that they do the same for you. Now, if you please, we'll adjourn. I'll see you all at the sorting!"

With that, most people rushed for the portrait exit. Romulus pulled his daughter away and out of sight as quickly as he could. Severus pretended to be reading one of the parchments Minerva had given out. Feigning interest was another habit of his. As the room cleared, Minerva dropped into her seat. She put her head in her hands and sighed.

"That was horrid."

"Yes, Headmis—Minerva. It was. Where did you find that creature?"

She seemed to consider her answer for a moment. Severus looked at her. She was getting so old.

"I only just procured him. I thought we were going to have to ask Ms. Granger to come do first years' courses while I tried to teach the older years."

He looked at her pointedly.

"There is reason enough now to let him go. The insinuations he made—"

"He'll never repeat them to a student, I hope," she said, "And say he does; a student wouldn't even know it was an insult, the way that man talks. He was the _last_ option, Severus. People are still scared of retaliation. No one wants to call this place home and I can't say that I blame them."

Minerva rubbed her forehead as she spoke, leaning forward on her elbows. It struck him for the first time that she looked helpless. He'd never seen it on her before, but it did not become her. At the same time, Severus understood. The Ministry was on Minerva weekly to make her school somehow more inviting to employees, students, and parents. As it was, even with her increased efforts, attendance was still at an all-time low. A pang of guilt snapped out of Snape's gut and into his throat when he thought about the fact that he was part of the problem. Students' parents still rarely showed trust in his moral leanings. Minerva mistook Severus' bleak ponderings as irritation.

"Well don't look at me like that. Please remind yourself that you _are_ the Deputy Headmaster! You were supposed to be helping find this replacement! Instead you would ward your office so I couldn't even send you an owl!"

Minerva was beside herself. She knew she'd made a mistake and she didn't want the blame to be hers alone. Would this man be part of her legacy at Hogwarts? And a muggle-hater? The contract had been signed.


	2. Chapter 2

"Yes. How quaint. _'I've had eleven years of schooling thus far.'_ "

Argo's father mocked her angrily as they entered their new quarters. She could feel her face burning with shame. Tears would soon follow. She hated how easily he could make her cry.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to say."

Romulus turned and scoffed at her.

"It's always attention with you. Your mother was the same. I've finally gained some proper notoriety, and you're on about _'eleven years of magical schooling.'_ How embarrassing. You want attention? Fine, you've got it."

With that, Romulus pointed his wand at his daughter and mumbled. In moments, her image became softer and softer until it sharpened again. She looked at least 5 kilos heavier than she had before. Argo blanched and looked up at Romulus incredulously. She'd worked so hard to get him to let her come across to others at an almost normal weight! Now she was going in the other direction. She hadn't actually gained any weight in reality, but the glamour seemed to weigh down on her back.

She listened to him continue to fume at her as she held her belly. It felt flat as always, but her hands came to rest on it before they should have. Would anyone bump into her and notice? She zoned out as Romulus slammed his bedroom door. She assumed this meant that she should not expect to be fed tonight, and went to her own room. She resized all her clothing and lay in her bed naked. Argo ran her hands all over herself, then. She felt her tiny breasts, her smooth, flat, too-thin abdomen. She felt her face, the bones sticking out. She felt her knobby elbows and her hip bones beneath the fake image he'd made. Then, she felt herself _there_. She ran a finger along her clitoris. Argo hated that she liked to come. It was one of the only ways she could get to sleep at night. She would touch herself and cry afterward. Pulling her hand away, she rolled over and tried to sleep.

Severus strode purposefully into his quarters but found no purpose upon arriving inside. His thoughts were on the new Arithmancy Professor and his daughter. How odd the two had been. Severus began peeling layers away from his body and approached the fireplace. By the time he had lit the fire, he wore his sleeves rolled up and his boots had been kicked to the side. He leaned against the hearth for a moment and soaked up the heat as his eyes glazed over.

It was clear to him that this wizard was not going to be an easy colleague or underling. He knew that any interaction with the man in a Deputy role would illicit argument and blunt insubordination. Severus was prepared for that. He wondered, though, what he wasn't prepared for. Again, his instincts and habits and hang-ups all came into play as he attempted to process the information he'd taken in and force it into more than it was. Why openly insult the muggleborn at the first meeting? Was he sending up a flag? Did he think anyone at this school would approach him in a friendly manner afterward? The chip on this man's shoulder seemed disproportionate to his circumstances.

Why embarrass his daughter? Severus saw the man for the swot he was. But cruel, sadistic? He couldn't imagine that Minerva would miss that in an interview. No. There was something else afoot, and it made no sense to the former spy, potions master, headmaster, dead-man. Snape absently loosened his cravat and set it on the mantle. His eyes were still glazed. Suddenly, he shook his head and turned away from the now hot fire. He couldn't come to any conclusions tonight. He would wait and observe. Part of him wondered if he was interested simply because it might stretch his mind a bit. His neck ached, just above his collar bone. He placed the back of his fingers against the scars to cool them. He would watch. And he would listen.

When the third round of Wolfsbane was finished brewing for the lunar month Severus came out of the dungeons during the daytime, much to Poppy Pomfrey's surprise.

"Severus!" The bustling witch threw her hand over her heart when she turned around to him holding out a covered cauldron. He set the potion on her desk when she did not take it. "Oh goodness it's good to see you, Severus. And out of the dungeons!"

"Yes, well, fresh air and all that. Though suffice it to say once Horace takes up residence in the castle I'll have no need for it."

Severus' dry attempt at humor flew right over Poppy's head. She must have had the vague sense that he was joking, however, because she quirked a short smile before returning to her cabinets. Snape mused that he ought to stop trying to be friendlier with people, despite Minerva's wishes.

Considering whether he should visit said pain-in-his-neck before or after lunch, Severus halted between two corridors. Food, or Minerva? Without further analysis of his predicament, Severus headed for the kitchens. On his way, he heard footsteps on a path tangential to his own. Minerva would be back at the school today, he knew, and he wondered if she was out and checking up on things. He changed his course, thinking to intercept the Headmistress and get it all over with in one go.

As the footsteps became louder, it was clear to Severus that it was not Minerva coming around the corner. Just as he started to turn around, Argo Blanche came around the corner levitating a ball of consolidated laundry in front of her. She looked away when she saw him and walked by without a word. She seemed tired and absent. Severus stopped her. She turned, and he approached her warily.

"What are you doing?"

Argo didn't look him in the eye.

"My apologies, sir. If I need permission to be in the corridors at this time, I will obtain it from my father. Should I summon him?"

Severus tried to seek out a hint of sarcasm in her voice but could find none. She was sincere, which took him off guard. His vitriol usually invoked fear and cowering, but not diplomacy. Snape attempted not to look at the laundry, for fear that her underthings might be visible.

"No. No, that' won't be necessary. What, may I ask, are you attempting to do," Severus asked. For all the sarcasm she lacked, he had plenty.

"I'm…just…" She pointed at her parcel. Severus grew impatient.

"Yes? Out with it, already."

"Laundry, professor. Our laundry."

Severus' eye twitched. Stupidity was one of his least favorite traits among teenage girls, even if she was polite. The girl seemed to bite the inside of her cheek, then looked away again. Her cheeks burned, Severus noted, and he wondered if she was hiding something. After all, who didn't know that Hogwarts had elves that did the laundry? Had she never read Hogwarts: a History? It seemed unlikely considering her academic transfer would hinge upon current knowledge of Hogwarts rules and policies.

"Yes. Well. You might be elated to know that there are house elves for that. You need only leave your dirty clothing at the end of your bed on Wednesdays and, just like that, it's done for you that afternoon." His tone was sharp and overly nice. Severus spoke to her as though she were very young or very stupid. Argo seemed to become agitated but quickly schooled her face into place. It was neutral now. She was good. He would have to watch this girl for deception in the future.

"Yes, sir. I understand." She clearly did not want to say more. He would make her. What was she up to? Mysteries nagged at him. "I do recall reading that."

"And you still plan to continue doing your own laundry, then? If you're up to something, girl, I will find you out." She looked at him evenly and spoke slowly.

"No, sir. My father prefers his…our clothing to be washed only by wi…" she trailed off and caught herself. "He prefers the way I do it. He is old-fashioned with certain things."

Snape cocked an eyebrow and reconsidered the girl. Her full cheeks were half hidden by her brown hair. Seconds later, it snapped into place that Romulus did not want elves touching his laundry. It was clear from the deepening blush that the girl was embarrassed by her father's views. The two of them regarded each other for a moment before Severus cleared his throat.

"Very well."

He would have walked away then, but Argo asked him a question. If he had asked her, she wouldn't have been able to tell him why she felt the urge to be polite to him. He was clearly quite rude.

"And you, sir? How do you find your afternoon? Are you about on school business?"

Her forwardness amused him a bit but also made him wonder again whether she was hiding something. The large ball of laundry floated and rotated lazily. She didn't know that he didn't speak to people this way. How quaint. He would play along since he was in a good mood.

"I am going for lunch. The kitchens are just behind the painting of a bowl of fruit two corridors that way," he said, motioning behind himself.

Argo's eyes followed the motion of his head and she seemed to go very still. In her mind, she was elated. She knew where the kitchens were already. She would be able to eat at night, maybe.

Snape almost thought he sensed excitement from her. Then, he remembered her eating disorder and the embarrassment from the previous night. Maybe it had been a bad thing that he had shown her where the kitchens were. Still, there were measures in place to reprimand children who entered the kitchen at inappropriate times. He felt slightly like a bastard for practically teasing her with the thought of food. Looking down at her while she wasn't in robes, he noted that she did seem a bit heavier than he had originally thought. He assumed the dim lighting at dinner was at fault for that.

"Forgive me, sir, but…"

He waited for her to finish but she didn't. She continued to look in the direction he had motioned. He shifted his weight and sighed, not amused.

"Yes, Miss Blanche?"

"You were…walking the other direction, weren't you?"

She never once looked at him again, seemingly deep in thought. He could tell that she had just been making conversation to deviate his attention to her odd behavior. _'Perhaps she's not so good at bluffing after all,'_ Snape thought, disappointed that she posed no challenge. He turned back and disappeared without responding to her.

The girl bid Professor Snape good day in his general direction, but continued on her way deep in thought. Meanwhile, Snape strode into the kitchen, frightening several knee-high elves, all of whom scrambled to get out of his way in time. A small female elf named Myna steeled herself for several minutes of being snapped at, and politely asked what he would like to eat.

"Whatever's on hand," he said. Myna blinked. She had never once seen him act polite to a house elf. Dobby had once told her, before the war had begun, that he was a good wizard at heart, but that he was just bad-tempered. Myna wasn't sure she believed that. The dark wizard had killed her Dumbly Dore and she missed the old wizard dearly.

She set about summoning leftovers toward the professor while he stared down at the newspaper someone had left on the table. He didn't read it, though. Argo and her father seemed less and less like a normal little family in his mind. Snape set about going over all of the thoughts and impressions in his mind regarding the two newcomers. He remembered having the same impressions when he first met Lucius' family, so long ago. Perhaps this was the same? _'People to watch but not to involve oneself with?'_

Ignoring the strange sensation of not entirely hating a student right off the bat, Severus ate and contemplated whether he'd find more students' company enjoyable now that Harry Potter was out of his hair.

It was 2:40 in the morning now. She could hear snores from the next room. Argo shivered and wrapped her sweater around her seemingly plump midsection. Her footsteps were near silent as she approached her door. Though she appeared heavy, she doubted she would make much sound against the wooden floorboards.

She exited and stepped lightly past the door to Romulus' room. She was almost there! Her breath caught as she let the portrait swing outward quietly, and then gently pushed it back where it belonged. She thanked her luck. The portrait they had been given did not have any English speaking people in it. They were dead asleep anyway, some in hammocks and some against trees.

Argo's feet pounded the stone floor as she raced to the picture of the bowl of fruit. She stopped just short of running into the wall and stared at the portrait. She didn't know the password. She tried several times to say common words to the portrait but it wouldn't budge. Five minutes passed as she nervously begged the portrait to open.

"Breakfast? Lunch? Dinner! House elf! Frog legs fried in shit," she beseeched irritably. Giving up, she slammed her hand against the portrait. Her fingers curled into a ball against the rough paint as she made a fist. The frame swung open and Argo jumped back to avoid being hit. She covered her mouth to avoid screaming in surprise. Tears sprung to her eyes and she rushed inside. She would have to be careful. Argo whispered to herself, "Not so much that you get bloated. He'll see."

She ate a sandwich with horseradish spread on it. She longed for another but made herself eat a banana as quickly as possible instead and even took two swallows of pumpkin juice. She wiped her mouth and gargled water before running out of the room. She felt a rush of elation and lethargy as she digested the food.

Myna watched quietly as the portrait closed. She was supposed to tell the staff whenever students were in the kitchen after nightfall. But she didn't want to tell on this girl. This girl was so thin. She needed to eat. The picture around her was wrong. She wasn't as big as whoever had drawn the picture had made her look. _'Surely headmistress does not mean skinny children?'_ Myna asked herself this question several times before hitting her head on the floor in anguish. Myna decided it was worth two more head-bangs to not tell on the skinny Miss and her one sandwich. Besides, wasn't that rule only meant to be followed during the school year?


End file.
